#Before it would've been a funny joke but once his hair is a certain length somehow it seems a lot less humourous hmm

[vargaslovinghours]

Scriabin is grumpy and incapable of being cheered, go away

[milkytheholy1]

Christmas Party

Egon Spengler x Female Reader

A/N: This is my first time writing a fic for the franchise and this character, so please go easy on me, I'm still trying to find my footing.

Ultimate masterlist.

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The annual city council Christmas party was in full swing, New York was often the place to be when it came to these types of events anyway. There was always a sense of wonder in the air, the Christmas spirit shining bright in most individuals.

For once, snow had cast down upon the streets, white bundles piled up against sidewalks and shop doors. There was a bitter chill in the breeze, freezing your hands even inside a warm building, the sneaking shivers of a cold tingling your spine.

You and your fellow colleagues had been swept up in the mayor's events, not really getting a choice in whether you wanted to attend the evening or not. Though it couldn've been worse, you could have been in a room full of accountants and people that talk way too slow.

However, you were stood in a room with accountants and people that talk way too slow, but were joined by your best friends which helped numb the boredom.

It was a formal event, black tie and long dresses, something you weren't entirely sure if you liked or not; but there was an open bar and that certainly peaked your interests.

As well as many others.

Peter had brought Dana with him, arms interweaving around one and another. They hummed to the live band and slowly waltzed on the dancefloor, Dana occasionally swatting Peter on the arm, no doubt a rude comment was made.

Winston was sat by a table with a few members of the NYPD and fire department, a beer held in his hand and a smooth smile on his lips. Whatever he was saying must have been funny as the entire crowd around him were in hysterics.

You continued to observe the room from the small corner you had blocked yourself in, quietly sipping your white wine with distaste. It wasn't your sort of drink, a shot of vodka would've suited you better, but when at a high-class event you can't afford to be picky.

Ray had walked past you just moments ago, trailing behind a small group of people with another man in the centre. You determined this as the mayor and what you could only assume was a plea for Ray to stop talking. He had been complaining for months now about funding for the firehouse, declaring he was going to get the mayor to listen to him.

"He can probably live without a couple thousand, just enough to stabilise the building's structure, maybe get a working coffee pot." was his reasoning. But, five phone calls later and three blocked visits and Ray was at his breaking point.

Leaving him to his own suffering, you searched for the last member of your merry group: Egon. It wasn't hard to see that you held a certain soft spot for the genius with the circular glasses, well it wasn't hard to anyone that apparently wasn't Egon himself.

To say he had so many PHD's and still couldn't see you fawning over him was a joke. Maybe you should try a different approach? You knew Egon appreciated it when people were up straight and honest with him, maybe that was the best idea.

Still, you'd need a lot more liqueur in you before you gained that hidden confidence.

You caught the dark tuffs of his hair by the bar, an unusual place to see him but not an unwelcome one. Swiftly making your way towards his back, your ball-length dress swaying as you moved, you placed a delicate hand on his shoulder.

He flinched at first, but soon relaxed once he caught your gaze. You joined him on the bar stools, manoeuvring your dress to fit the small seat. Egon gave you a once over, though he'd be lying if he didn't say this wasn't the first time he's taken in your appearance this evening.

"You look lovely this evening, new dress?" he asked, eyebrow raised but his eyesight drawn to the small glass he was nurturing in his hand. You let out a small puff of air, "Oh, this old thing?" you mused, smoothing down the creases with your fingers, "I just pulled it out of my closet."

He rewarded you with a small smirk, taking a timid sip of his drink, the golden substance disappearing past his lips. You looked back to the bar, a sheen of pink dusting your cheeks. You placed your hand up, calling for the bartender, "Vodka and lime," you asked, though to you it sounded like begging.

"Vodka? At an event like this?" Egon muttered, brow raised once more. You smirked at him, side-eyeing him while you watched the glass in front of you fill up, "Whiskey? At an event like this?" you teased back.

"I find it helps to calm my nerves, I'm not one for big parties." another sip.

"Are you sober?" you asked, thinking you remember seeing Egon sat at this bar for a few hours, he couldn't have had one drink for that whole time.

"I'm moderately functional," he quipped, another sip. You couldn't help the cackle that fell from your lips, people sat opposite on the elegant tables glaring at you. You calmed yourself down, grasping the cool drink in your hand and tasting it, "I'll take that as a no then."

"What about you? I've seen you drinking wine all night."

"Oh, so you've been watching me, huh?"

"I- well, it wasn't-" Egon stuttered over his words, hands waving around as he tried to articulate. You nudged his shoulder with your own, a cheeky grin on your face, "It's okay, I'm only pulling your leg." he seemed to breathe after you said that.

Egon brought his fist to his mouth, giving out a loud cough before drinking again, "So, how are you enjoying the mayor's Christmas party?"

"It could've been worse, though the guy who does accounting can get a little handsy at these things."

"Dennis?" Egon tilted his head up, "Dennis." you confirmed with a smile.

"I think Janine put in a complaint about him last year, but nothing came from the matter."

The conversation ended with that, a few moments were just spent in silence as the band rung out. Growling under your breath, you threw caution to the wind, "Aah screw it!" you huffed. Jumping off your seat, you offered your hand out to Egon, "Doctor Spengler, would you care for a dance?"

"Oh, I don't dance," he dismissed you with a wave of his hand. Pouting, you didn't take that as an answer, "C'moooon, I've seen you bust a move or two at the firehouse."

"Yes, well-" he pushed his glasses further up his nose, a rose blush tinting his cheeks, "-that was when there were only me, you and Ray and not present company."

"Pretty please?" you begged, grasping his hand and slowly pulling it towards you. How could Egon say no to you? He shook his head, eyes cast to the floor before returning to you with a sparkle. He reluctantly allowed you to pull him over to the dancing couples, positioning his arms around your waist while you wrapped yours around his neck.

Surprisingly, Egon was pretty good at dancing, spinning you around and going into more elaborate footwork. Blinking up at him, after spending a few moments staring at his shoes, you spoke up: "How are you so good at this? You said you don't dance."

"It's simple, just basic repetitive steps. The only challenge is to keep in tune, but with the way this band is playing, it wasn't very hard."

"Ah, you noticed the trumpet was out of tune too?" you mused. Egon smiled down at you, "It's hard not to notice."

"I don't know," you cast your gaze around the room, watching all the other couples dance, pressed so closely together, "The other's don't seem to mind."

Egon took this time to glance around at the others, seeing them close together, love evident on their faces. Thinking boldly, he took a small step closer to you, using his strength to pull you further into his body. Instead of disgust and utter rejection, which is what Egon thought would happen, you pulled your arms tighter around him.

You leant your head against his chest, slowly swaying while the music played. Egon had fully wrapped his arms around you by now, tipsy mind numbed by the warmth you provided.

"Merry Christmas, Doctor Spengler." you murmured, eyes drooping shut. Egon placed a delicate kiss on the crown of your head, "Merry Christmas, (Y/N)."